


Find The One That You Love

by Spiderwebb



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2011-10-15
Packaged: 2017-10-24 15:32:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiderwebb/pseuds/Spiderwebb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron surprises Emily getting ready in the bathroom. They're going to be late for work...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find The One That You Love

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:I do not own the characters, just playing with them.

Emily is in the bathroom of her apartment, bent over from the waist and blow drying her hair when he comes in. She’s singing to herself and doesn’t notice at first that he’s entered the room. Over the noise of the dryer and her continued song she is unable to hear his footfalls.

“Sheila Take A Bow?" He looks at her with wry smile on his handsome face. “Is that what you’re singing?”

Emily rears up, startled. “Oh, my god, Hotch, you scared the life out of me!”

Hotch reaches over to turn the hair dryer off, noticing that Emily’s robe is gaping open slightly to allow him a glimpse of her creamy skin.

“I didn’t mean to startle you; I just heard you in here and I thought I recognized the song,” he says with a grin.

Emily takes the hair dyer away from Hotch and wraps the cord up and puts it away under the sink. She turns to him and wrinkles her nose. “I just didn’t think The Smiths would be your cup of tea.”

Hotch steps closer, reaching for the tie of her robe. He arches an eyebrow at her. “Oh, so you think I’m not cool enough to have liked them?” He tugs harder and the robe slips open, exposing her nakedness to his silky gaze. He looks back up at her face and they grin at each other, enjoying the game they're playing, the game they've been playing since that first time in his office 3 months ago, long after everyone had gone home and it was just the two of them and they had finally given into their feelings.

Emily gasps as Hotch steps closer, pressing his fully clothed body against hers.

"I didn’t say that.” She's thrown by the abrupt movement, but she's still smiling. “I bet you were real cool. I can just see you playing junior GI man with all your pals…” She inhales sharply as he wraps his arms more firmly around her and starts pressing hot kisses to the side of her neck.

“In your own terribly goofy way, I bet you…,” she continues and then shrieks as Hotch lifts her up and carries her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where he tosses her onto the mattress.

From her prone position Emily watches with amusement (and more that a hint of lust) as Hotch begins to strip off his tie and unbutton his shirt, ultimately divesting himself of the garment. He throws it in the direction of a chair in the corner of the room and shrugs when it falls short of the target.

Leaning down over her and drawing her hands over her head, Hotch whispers hotly in her ear. “You’re in for it now, Emily Prentiss."

Emily shivers and struggles a bit at the hands holding her wrists and from the intensity of his gaze on her, but she knows Hotch, trusts Hotch and she knows that they're just playing. She knows that he would never hurt her. Still holding her wrists imprisoned in his grasp, Hotch starts at her mouth, kissing her, tongue searching deep, searching for that elusive flavor that is Emily alone. Their legs entangle, their mouths and their bodies struggle to be closer.

Hotch lets go of Emily’s hands and she reaches for his hair and plunges them into the rich thickness of it, moaning deeply. Emily leans more fully into the kiss, gratified to hear Hotch groan. Abruptly, he pulls back, straddling her thighs and tears the robe from her, throwing it over the side of the bed.

His eyes, as he looks over her delicate form makes the breath catch in Emily’s throat. He looks like he wants to devour her. Still holding her gaze, he leans in and takes one dusky pink nipple into his mouth, tugging gently with his teeth. His other hand comes in to play with the other plump breast and Emily’s hands twist on the fine cotton of the duvet cover.

She moves her hands to his head, holding him to her as he suckles and then she groans out, “Wait, Hotch, wait...”

Pushing herself up from the bed and forcing Hotch over to lie on his side, together they take off his pants, socks and shoes, leaving him clad only in his boxers. Emily's eager hands reach for Hotch's erection, but he stops her saying, “Not this time, Missy. I think you deserve a little payback for your teasing.” Emily relents with only a token protest and does not resist as she is pushed back to lie flat beneath him. With a growl he leans over her again, hands roaming all over her body seeking out places that make her arch and groan.

Moving down to the end of the bed, Hotch shoulders Emily’s trembling legs apart. Breathing in deeply, he inhales the salty scent of her. He takes one more glance up to her flushed body to take in the scene of her with her head thrown back, black hair spread out on the coverlet, before lowering his mouth to her center.

The words are torn from her as she feels his lips upon the most secret part of her. “Oh, God, Hotch, yes!”

Hotch plies himself more urgently to his task, basking in the scent and feel of her. Moving one hand to push her sleek thigh wider he brings his other hand to her apex. Laving her swollen folds and swirling his tongue around her firm bud, he brings his other hand up and gently strokes her straining stomach muscles. She tastes like the sea and and he can't get enough. She can't help the buck of her hips as she arches her lower back to the mattress, lungs straining with her urgent breathing.

Emily is sure that she’s dying. Her hands pull at the coverlet in bunches and she feels feverish. His MOUTH, she thinks. Oh god, his mouth. It’s sometimes impossible to sit across from him in meetings and not think of him this way, face pressed between her thighs. Her control shatters, and she grabs him by hair looking him fiercely in the eye and growls out “Get up here. NOW.”

Hotch quirks an eyebrow at her tone, but smiles, his dimple coming out from hiding. Apparently, the lady is ready for more. He moves up the bed and they remove his boxers together with some haste, hands tangling and making it more complicated that it need be.

Finally skin to skin, Hotch lies between Emily’s spread thighs. He looks down at her, eyes alight, and then with a shift of his hips, he's inside. Eyes locked, they can't look away. Hotch waits a moment, then presses deep. Emily gasps and bites her lip. She lifts her legs around his waist and tilts her hips up to feel more of him as he starts to thrust. He lowers his face to the dip of her shoulder, picking up the pace. When he lifts his mouth to her for a kiss, Emily catches the taste of herself on Hotch’s tongue and moans harshly.

Hotch begins to move faster and Emily clutches at him, pulling at him, wrapping her arms and legs tighter around him. Reaching between them, he strokes the firm bundle of nerves and Emily thrusts her hips more forcefully against his, finally coming with a panting gasp against his throat and the feel of her inner muscles clamping down on his hardness is all it takes to push him over the edge to completion.

Lowering himself to his elbows, Hotch presses hot kisses to her face before partially collapsing on top of her. She runs her calves up and down the fine hairs on the backs of his legs, trails her fingers along his ribcage before sinking her fingers into the short, precisely cut hairs at the nape of his neck. Her legs feel like jelly.

After a few moments, Hotch stirs and moves aside drawing a groan from Emily, but he just pulls her into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. They bask in the afterglow, heartbeats slowing, until Hotch's voice rings out into the stillness of the bedroom,

"By the way, Prentiss. I've seen the photograph."

She cranes her head upward to see his face, one raven eyebrow lifted. "Photograph? What photograph?"

"Oh, just Emily Prentiss. Garfield High. Class of '89. Someone had quite the fascination with eyeliner and Aquanet. Garcia showed it to me."

Hotch smiles down at the woman lying in his arms. He can feel the grin she's trying to hide pressed into his chest.

"So, Prentiss. Plan on teasing me about being a goof any time soon?"

Her reply is swift and succinct.

"Yes, sir. At the first available opportunity."

His laughter fills the room.


End file.
